


only love is all maroon

by drowninginmysleep, imstephtacular



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheesy, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Fluff, Fluffy, Holiday, Liam Payne & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, M/M, Zayn Malik & Harry Styles Friendship, dopey and cheesy and adorable and dumb, dopey boys, larry - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowninginmysleep/pseuds/drowninginmysleep, https://archiveofourown.org/users/imstephtacular/pseuds/imstephtacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry invites Louis and Liam to a holiday party and Louis insists on handling wardrobe for the evening</p>
            </blockquote>





	only love is all maroon

**Author's Note:**

> AU holiday fic prompt from this post http://captainasexual.tumblr.com/post/101982606084/fun-holiday-aus-for-you-to-consider-we-both-wore
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Bon Iver's "Flume"

“Mail call!” Louis sings, bumping the front door closed with his bum and flicking through a bundle of envelopes. Liam is hunched over the coffee table, engaged intimately with a plate of cookies, and swivels towards Louis, crumbs tumbling down his chin.

“Annyfing goot?” he asks, spitting more specks of sweets from his mouth.

Louis narrows his eyes, silently threatening to shank him for being a slob, but announces proudly, “bills, bills, more bills, and…ah, a party!” His eyes glow and he chucks the bills onto the table, or at least somewhere in the vicinity of the table, and rushes to fling himself on the couch next to Liam.

“A parry?” Liam mumbles once more.

“Yes, a party, for both of us, but I’m not taking you if you’re going to have manners of a cow,” Louis chides, poking Liam’s half-full cheek. Liam coughs, releasing a puff of sugary bits into the air before swallowing down the remainder of what is in his mouth.

Clearing his throat, Liam finally replies, “Who’s party?”

“Harry’s, of course,” Louis sighs dreamily, handing Liam the invitation. “I hope you didn’t have plans for next Saturday because…these are your plans now.”

Liam scans the card, flipping it over and back again, considering. “Well I did have a big evening planned for me, myself, and I…”

“Watching old Batman movies, eating crisps, and having a wank does not count as plans, Liam,” Louis quips. “We’re going. Which means we’ll need something to wear.” Louis snatches the invite back. “Doesn’t specify a dress code anywhere, s’pose it’s a right, tacky Christmas party then, knowing Haz.”

“Dunno Lou, wouldn’t he have made that clear?” Liam twists his lips into a frown.

“This is _Harry_ , Liam,” Louis whines. “When has he ever made anything clear?” Liam laughs at that, patting Louis on the knee. Louis has been chasing Harry since last Christmas and the whole year has been mixed signals and sweet kisses on the cheeks and day dates at the park and Louis can’t stand it but Liam finds it incredibly endearing.

“Alright, well…how tacky are we talking here?” Liam tries. “On a scale from…say, me to you?” He quirks his eyebrow up, wanting a rise out of Louis.

Louis shoves Liam with his shoulder. “Obviously me, 110% me!” Louis blushes, pleased with himself. “Which means we had better start thinking about our outfits ten minutes ago. Up, up, you, no time to waste!” Louis pushes Liam up, patting him on the bum and guiding him towards their giant, shared walk-in closet in the hall.

Louis rifles through the options, a sea of colors at his fingertips, mumbling _no_ ’s and _nope_ ’s and _hell no_ ’s at the choices presented. Liam watches on in amusement, chewing on his lip patiently. “Ah, now this I can work with,” Louis finally shouts, plucking a bright green sweater from its hanger and reaching for something in a dark shade of red a few feet further down. “Yes, these will do just fine,” Louis smirks and Liam knows he can’t possibly wriggle out of this thing now.

**

After three years of living with Louis, Liam should know that Louis doesn’t do anything halfway. He’s an all or nothing lad, more all than nothing in most cases. Especially when it comes to holidays and parties. Two days before the party, Louis takes the day off and Liam comes home after work to what he mistakes as Santa’s workshop. Every surface is draped in ribbons or glitter or Christmas animal decals and Louis is in the thick of it, hot glue gun in hand, pins and needles between his teeth. “Ay,” Louis nods when Liam walks in, carefully surveying the obstacle course at his feet. “Come on, give a hand,” Louis insists, motioning with his head, and Liam tiptoes very ungracefully through the living room, tripping and landing nearly in Louis’ lap, settling on the floor next to him. “Toss me that gold scrunchie thing there, would you?” Liam wrinkles his nose, reaching around to the couch, and hanging Louis some sort of tutu-like apparatus with a groan.

“Lou…” he begins, only to be stopped by a drippy, steaming gun of glue in his face.

“We are doing this and I don’t need a peep out of you.”

“Peep,” Liam whispers, grinning, and Louis leans closer, poking Liam with one of the pins in his mouth.

“Yow!” Liam yelps.

“You get what you get,” Louis snips. “Now, tell me which you’d like to wear.” Louis puts down the tools in his hands and reaches behind him, displaying a loud, green item with a silver sparkly reindeer wrapped in true, working, blinking Christmas lights. At the wrists, the sleeves of the sweater taper into red and gold plaid bands of ribbon. Beaming proudly, Louis gingerly places the sweater back on the couch and shows Liam the one settled in his lap. The original crimson colored sweater from the closet has been transformed into a candy-caned striped piece of work. Louis has wrapped shiny white ribbons around the body of the piece, fastening tiny beaded candies like snowflakes dotting the sleeves, finishing it off with a hand-stitched sweet as candy in small, scrawling script along the bottom hem. Liam gapes at him, mouth dropping open with an audible pop. “I know, I know, you’re speechless, you can’t possibly choose, you don’t want to offend my extraordinary styling by choosing one over the other,” Louis goes on, patting himself on the back.

“It’s…it’s not that, Lou, I assure you.”

“Well then, spit it out.”

“I…” Liam tries to choose his words with care, never wanting to hurt Louis’ fragile feelings when it comes to things like this. “Why don’t you pick first, since they’re your masterpieces and all. Or better, you pick for me. Which one did you have in mind?” Liam lets his cheeks burn pink, beginning to sweat with anticipation.

“Oh brilliant!” Louis claps, tapping his finger to his chin. “I honestly had the green one in mind for myself and the red for you. I look fabulous in green, you know.”

“Red it is, then,” Liam curls his lips into a true grin. It’s one night, Liam tells himself, and he can’t help but crinkle his eyes at the genuine, boyish beam emanating from Louis. Just one night.

 

**

 

The sweater is itchy. And awkward. And, because it belonged to Lou before it underwent transformative surgery for the party, a bit too tight for Liam’s liking. “You look fine, babe,” Louis assures him. “Smashing, actually.” The glint in Louis’ eye reflecting the silver and sparkle on his sweater calms Liam’s nerves as they step out of the elevator onto Harry’s floor. “Sure Zayn will think so, too,” Louis whispers, the gleam in his eyes turning devilish.

Liam chokes, stumbling over his own two feet. “You didn’t say Zayn was going to be here,” Liam stammers.

“Well, he is Harry’s best mate, Li, I can only assume,” Louis says dismissively. “I can only imagine what he’ll be wearing. Mm probably something dark and worn and warm and…”

“ _Louis_ ,” Liam grits through his teeth, “can you…not?” His palms are growing slick and he reaches to swipe them on his sweater before he remembers it’ll wreck Louis’ work and he briefly considers doing it anyways, but settles lower on his jeans.

“Oh, fine, you’re right, Zayn would never dress up for a themed party, right.” Louis steps up to Harry’s door and fusses with his hair before turning to Liam once more. “Let’s do this!” His teeth sparkle and Liam exhales, tugging up on his frown the best he can manage.

Harry swings the door open seconds later and greets them with his usual goofy smile that reminds Liam of an elf from some kiddie Christmas flick, but it quickly melts into a look of utter confusion, a curl drooping delicately, dramatically into his eye. “Hello party people!” Louis shouts, barging in, ignoring Harry’s expression, leaving Liam in the hallway.

“Hey, Lou, uh…” Harry starts, but he’s too late. Louis is waltzing into the room of guests, gaining the attention of everyone like he is used to. Harry leans in to Liam. “Did you guys think this was a costume party or?” He scratches his head and Liam’s stomach drops to the floor, his face blending in with the hue of his sweater.

“We, uh. Lou…er, uh…Louis figured it required ugly sweater dress code?” Liam covers his face with his hands, looking down at his feet.

“Oh,” Harry murmurs, waiting a beat, then bursting into a raucous laugh. “Lou!” He shouts, wheeling back into the room only to greet Louis’ look of embarrassment and everyone in the crowd’s looks of shock. Liam peeks through his fingertips at the scene unfolding. All of Harry’s guests are dressed to the nines, all shiny suits and fancy jackets and sparkly dresses and flashy jewelry and Louis is trapped in the middle, sweater shining and blinking for everyone to see.

Louis’ lips are pinched together and Liam is afraid he might cry. Liam inhales sharply and enters the apartment, joining Louis in the spotlight. Liam links his arm through Louis’, proudly displaying their festive garments, and surveys the room. “What? Did nobody else get the memo?” Liam quickly replies, mustering every ounce of confidence inside him, hoping the moment can be saved, hoping Louis’ last shred of dignity can be recovered. The room rumbles into nervous laughter and Harry approaches, clapping Liam on the shoulder.

“My fault, mates,” Harry announces, bowing apologetically. “So glad you both reminded me, how silly of me!” Harry playfully smacks himself in the forehead and Liam has no idea what he’s doing or how he’s playing along so quickly, but he thanks him with his eyes and Louis lets out a tiny sigh. “Here, Zayn, help me with this, yeah?” Harry waves Zayn over from where Liam hadn’t noticed he was sitting, in the corner by the tree, looking soft and warm in a dark pair of jeans, dark red-almost-purple sweater, and gently swept hair, just as Louis had predicted. Harry is suddenly rooting through the hall closet, guests murmuring around him, and Zayn is walking over to assist him, but not before peeking over at Liam and smirking fondly, which is a thing that only Zayn can manage to do.

Liam and Louis are still standing in the middle of the room, still the center of attention, and Louis says through his teeth, “Gunna kill that gangly bastard.” Liam laughs and rubs at Louis’ shoulders, relaxing them both.

“Wonder what he’s got up his sleeve,” Liam muses as they both stretch to watch as he and Zayn pull boxes and bags from the closet.

“Everyone, gather, here!” Harry scans the room and begins pulling all sorts of Christmas decorations from the box. “I have enough for everyone!” He and Zayn begin handing out ribbons, ornaments, lights, and bits of wrapping paper and Harry is explaining, encouraging all of his friends to pin and wrap miscellaneous holiday items onto their fancy clothes.

“What’s he on about?” Louis asks, standing on tip toe to see.

“He’s…he’s making everyone look like…us?” Liam pieces together aloud. “He’s…Lou, he’s…”

“The sweetest, that arse,” Louis mumbles, creeping closer, his eyes watering and turning a startling shade of sapphire. “The fucking sweetest.” The guests are crowding around, hesitant at first, but eventually do what Harry has asked and soon the room is teeming with people decked out in holiday fashion. “Alright, let me through, let me…” Louis demands, elbowing people to make a path towards Harry. “ _You_ …” he begins, shooting daggers at Harry, before yanking him up roughly with his fists and kissing him hard against the wall. Everyone hushes and watches as Harry’s eyes bug out of his head before fluttering closed, his arms finding the back of Louis’ sweater and pulling him in closer.

Someone whistles and Zayn mutters, about time, mates, and the room breaks out into laughter and applause. Louis pulls back and Harry’s cheeks are flushed and he clears his throat. “Ahem, everyone, please enjoy the rest of the party. Carry on…” he mumbles and everyone turns back to their earlier conversations and Harry resumes kissing Louis, two dopey grins plastered between their lips.

Zayn makes a show of backing away and finds his way to Liam, motioning towards that couch in the back near the tree. Zayn sits on the arm of the couch and Liam stands, not sure what to do, what to say. Zayn looks him up and down and now Liam’s face matches Zayn’s sweater, too. “Sweet…as…candy…” Zayn drawls, nibbling on his lip.

Liam laughs nervously. “Louis’ idea, obviously,” he replies, waving his hands in front of his chest.

“I like it,” Zayn says simply, reaching out to ghost his fingers over the hem, stroking the smooth stitches and looping words.

“Yeah?” Liam breathes, stepping an inch closer as Zayn tugs at the sweater.

“Yeah. Suits you. Red is nice on you,” Zayn hums.

“Yeah?” Liam breathes again, forgetting an entire lifetime’s worth of conversational skills.

“Yeah,” Zayn laughs lowly, drawing Liam even closer. “Red’s my favorite color, you know,” he whispers, running his hands along the smooth fabric that stops just at Liam’s hip and Liam’s breath hitches.

“Mine too,” Liam sighs.

“Yeah, red’s nice.” Zayn pauses for a moment, bringing himself to his feet, just a breath or two keeping them apart, and presses his lips to Liam’s. Liam gasps, his mouth opening to invite Zayn in, and slowly presses back, disappearing into the space between their lips. Zayn’s mouth is warm and slips easily against Liam’s and Liam shakes in his knees when Zayn gently sinks his teeth into Liam’s bottom lip. Liam lets out a tiny moan and gives it right back, letting go of the softness with which they began. Without, miraculously, managing to fall over, Liam gingerly wraps his arms around Zayn’s back, cradling him against him, never separating their mouths, and pulls him onto the couch, pressing their chests together and smoothing Zayn’s silky sweater against his palms.

Finally Zayn pulls back tenderly, licking his lips, and giving Liam those eyes, dark and dangerous and soft and endearing all at once, glittering in the tree lights beside them. Before Liam can form letters or sounds, Zayn repeats, “Yeah, red’s nice,” smiling at Liam’s swollen bottom lip and biting back on his own.


End file.
